Cold As You
by TheSongbird341
Summary: In all their lives, neither Regina nor Belle had ever encountered a man quite as cold as Rumpelstiltskin...


**Cold As You**

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_In all their lives, neither Regina nor Belle had ever encountered a man quite as cold as Rumpelstiltskin..._

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_You have a way of coming easily to me..._

Regina wasn't kidding herself. From the moment she'd met Rumpelstiltskin, she'd been drawn to him in an undeniable way. As she sat in despair, mourning her inability to face her mother and live her own life, emotional and broken, he'd found her; though she had sought him out, of course, but that was beside the point. She was fragile, and he was well aware of that. In response, he offered to solve her problem and showed her a way out; a chance, hope that she could chase her dreams without killing her mother, but simply "getting her out of the way", and because of that, combined with the vulnerability in her heart, she was swept off her feet. First impressions were the most important, after all, and his had left her thinking him a hero – a thought that remained with her through many events that should've proven otherwise. That's where he'd fooled her.

_And when you take, you take the very best of me..._

Belle, in turn, had been kidding herself all the way to her own heartbreak. Everyone knew she was a dreamer; it was one of the qualities about her that worried her father, should she come to rule in future's time. She imagined being a heroine of history – to go down in stories and fantastic tales of a princess that sold herself to the Dark One in order to save the lives of her people. She'd imagined little children talking about Princess Belle, wondering where she was now and if she escaped from the Dark Castle. Those thoughts made the choice worthwhile, although never easy. So she'd made it.  
But her mind wasn't finished toying with her yet, as she had then somehow convinced herself that the Beast was starting to like her, and then, possibly, _love _her. She'd thought that she had turned Rumpelstiltskin, and reminded him of his past, when he had a heart. She'd told herself that she had a place in that heart, when he'd later shown her that she was merely trespassing, as no one belonged in his heart. That's where he'd fooled her.

_So I start a fight, 'cause I need to feel something_...

And although many felt certain fascination with him – while others were simply repulsed by him – Rumpelstiltskin was no man to love. He was Regina's _master_, as far as anyone was concerned, and it should've stayed that way. But against her better sense and still enamored with the mystery in his voice and the danger in his eyes, she pursued him, subtly but honestly. He continued to amaze her as he taught her his ways of magic, and it was all she could do not to stare at him, to gaze as he claimed everything he touched with a haunting air lingering about him, leaving her spellbound. She wanted to be more like him; she wanted _him_. And try as she may to make him echo the feelings, he shut her down every time, until she grew bitter at his adamant refusal to love. The bitterness hardened her heart, as she was sure he'd planned all along, until she was furious. She broke into arguments about everything he said, while he acted oblivious to how angry she was, maddening her further. Passionate love still remained beneath, but confusion and emptiness destroyed her, until he was gone, in both soul and body.

_And you do what you want, 'cause I'm not what you wanted..._

But it seemed she was never as important to him as he was to her. Although he had been the one to want her there in the first place, she still seemed to be less important than magic in his eyes. Belle was never quite sure where she stood with him, left hanging from a thread as she surveyed the distance to the ground below, no step too careful to fall. He played games with her head, as if she were a child and he was teaching her the way things worked; and then, in an instant, turning and saying left was right and cold was hot, until she was lost in a sea of questions, reassessing situations of past to wonder if she'd been wrong all along. He made her think she was special, and that he enjoyed her company, and even _liked _her, then turned the tables and left her to pick up the pieces. He showed her he actually loved her, if only for a moment in time, then cast her out.  
She'd done all she could; she was certain she could fix his heart, as it was obviously broken in time's past. From what she'd seen, he had her convinced that he was hurting and ready for change. Wasn't that what he wanted? Wasn't _she _what he wanted?

_Oh, what a shame; what a rainy ending given to a perfect day..._

Regina could remember everything he'd taught her; the days turned outdoors, spent practicing magic together. The sun warm on their faces, it had been a long day of learning that she'd taken advantage of in hopes of changing his view of her, to make him see her in a new light. He'd been sitting out in the grass, leaning back on his hands as he watched her hopelessly attempt to make an apple tree produce fruit, until she huffed a breath and threw her hands in the air, declaring that she couldn't do it; that she needed _help_. Her intentions behind the statement were clear, but to no avail. He simply sat up and told her to try again, that she was overcomplicating a preliminary curse – to stop acting stupid and get serious. Instantly, her blood ran cold as yet _another _opportunity had been dashed by his bluntness and ignorance. The new set of nicknames was added to the old and she felt ridiculous; idealistic and amateurish. Why did he do this to her? Was it intentional?  
Whether it was or not, it was infuriating. She'd grabbed her saddlebag and told him she was done for the day, to which he replied with surprised silence, and stalked away, unknowingly leaving a trail of dead flowers in her wake as a magical tell-tale sign of her emotions.

_Just walk away; no use defending words that you will never say..._

Belle could remember the night he'd sent her away; from the kiss in front of the spinning wheel, so convinced that she could save him and knowing that he loved her when now, she couldn't be sure he even remembered her name, when all had gone so well until he'd realized he was being saved from himself... and he couldn't have that. He'd jerked away from her as if she were contagious and, after screaming at a mirror for a brief moment, took her to the dungeon. She'd been confused at first; wondering what she'd done to anger him so, but elated to find that the kiss had almost worked, meaning he loved her back. The glee was short-lived as he tossed her into the cell that she'd met the instant she'd entered the castle, reeking of mold and death. She'd stayed in that cell over a very fearful night before waking to find Rumple opening her cell door. Then, with the coldest, most dead eyes she'd ever seen, he told her to get out. She fought back, of course, claiming he was making a huge mistake and that he was so close to opening up and caring about someone again. But he didn't care for words, and told her to go. So, she walked out, leaving him to the silence of his own empty castle, _again._

_Now that I'm sitting here, thinking it through..._

Regina had to wonder how she'd been fooled so easily. It only proved what both he and her mother had told her all along: _Love is weakness. _It almost seemed as if they were on a team, or part of some club, and together were resolved to make her life miserable and convince her that love really _was _weakness. She was pretty convinced at this point, if you asked her. Everything, everyone she loved was taken away from her or turned on her as soon as she started to believe something good could happen to her – that it was possible for someone to want her, when the only person who ever did was snatched away by people who didn't, and never would. People like her mother. People like that wretched little sellout, Snow White. People like _Rumpelstiltskin_.

_I've never been anywhere cold as you..._

And of everyone Belle had met; all the evils, and the royals, and the wizards, and the peasants; the good people and the bad people; the family and the friends and the foes, each fewer than the last; the faithful and the doubters and the liars and the honests; of everyone she'd encountered in her life, _no one _had ever fooled her like he had. No one had ever been so close, so _unmistakably _close and so distant at the same time. No one had ever taken her so high up – so high she couldn't breathe, couldn't see the ground below, with no rhyme or reason about her – and then dropped her so quickly, without explanation, and stayed around to watch her hit the ground.

_You put up walls and paint them all a shade of gray..._

As time rolled onward, pain fading but never easing, Regina found herself at odds with the man she'd come to hate, commencing a notorious battle-of-the-evils. She began using everything he taught her against him, and he repelled her bites with his own knowledge. All traces of their time spent together was forsaken, and they acted as if they had no past when, in all truthfulness, it was their fonder memories of each other. If you asked them about their previous relationship, they'd lie.  
They subconsciously built up a wall between each other, invisible but real and _very _serious. They'd silently decided to leave the past behind after a misunderstanding they couldn't resolve, and although many times it was tempting to whip out a touchy memory or a dangerous questioning pertaining to one – it would have been so simple to pour salt in an open wound, rendering the other emotionally stilted – they had an understanding not to go near it. With all the hatred and underlying bitterness stirring for years, they still pertained to rules; there were lines they wouldn't cross. But no matter how hard they tried to shove down the past, it never stopped hurting.

_And I stood there, loving you, and wished them all away..._

For so long, she'd watched him live his life a shell of a human, going through the motions of his routine life, never loving, never knowing love as anything more than a name. Belle spent what felt like forever waiting for him to open up to her, to accept any of her attempts to make conversation, never giving up hope that deep down, beneath the gnarled, deep-rooted, thorn-riddled vines that protected his rumored-to-exist heart; beneath it all, there was a man that wanted happiness, that wanted _love_, but was afraid he was too long gone to let emotion back in. She lived in a daydream, imagining that one day, after years of what would have been eternity spent in servitude, after he'd gotten accustomed enough to her presence, he'd open up... he'd speak about his past and share his heartbreak, and, with that knowledge, she could begin to understand and, maybe, remind him of what love felt like. It was a outlandish goal, but she had achieved part of it before she'd been sent away. She'd been too close.

_And you come away, with a great little story..._

Regina could only imagine how amused he'd been to learn of her schoolgirl adoration of him. She could see him now; laughing along with his drunken friends, telling and retelling the tale of his student's immature crush on him... His mad friend in the hat would go into hysterics at her expense, and that doctor would already be attempting to diagnose her Grandiose Delusional for thinking that there had ever been the slightest chance at love with a man who _bottled _it. But yet, the thing she feared most was that he wouldn't tell; that he'd be embarrassed of her and keep the story to himself, not wanting his reputation scarred by her reckless imagination. She couldn't bear the thought that he wouldn't strike fun at the prospect; that he would keep it silent, as if she wasn't worth mentioning. A name, a memory... or perhaps, not a memory. Perhaps he didn't even care.

_Of a mess of a dreamer with the nerve to adore you..._

Belle knew what he was thinking. She knew that he had looked at her differently after things started changing; the curtains were opening, the wheel stopped spinning, and he was beginning to open up more, himself. It was then that she'd imagined his falling back in love with her, which had proven horribly inaccurate. But looking back, she saw herself clearly, and him, too. She could hear him already, laughing to himself long after she was gone, hopelessly amused at the girl who believed in tales of happily-ever-after, stories she'd been relentlessly fed for years solely because no one knew how to stop lying to her and tell her the truth; that people don't care for your heart and, should they so wish – and most of them do – will not hesitate to crush it, whether to rid themselves of you or simply to entertain themselves heavily at your expense. That was something she should have realized long ago, yet she learned it now, from experience rather than a precautionary measure. And although she could only imagine what he thought of her now, she had to be relieved that she'd at least learned the lesson, rather than living on pretending.

_Oh, what a shame; what a rainy ending given to a perfect day..._

Belle could see it now; the days in the castle spent aimless in dusting the dustless furniture and simply watching him work at the wheel, spinning, spinning... trying to forget, he claimed, when she felt he was only keeping his hands busy while he tortured himself with memories that floated through his head. She'd sit by the stove as the tea heated and wonder what those memories were, exactly. The tea would whistle and she'd pour some into his chipped cup, walking it over to him and setting it at his side. She'd linger beside him now and stare at his hands as they worked the straw, transforming it into something more beautiful, more valuable... She'd wonder if she could do the same; if she could take the Beast and turn him into the man he really was, deep inside.  
So she'd sit next to him and wait, wondering when he'd be finished, or how he even _decided _when he was finished, for that matter. He'd feel her eyes on him and continue to move his hands along the wheel, uninterested and annoyed at her presence, but she just wasn't going away. He'd turn and tell her to sweep a room or kindle a fire, merely to dash her hopes and shake her off. And as she'd follow his orders and walk away, she'd ask herself why she bothered, as it only ever hurt her.

_Just walk away; no use defending words that you will never say..._

But now, in the present, looking back at everything that had happened between the two, Regina could safely say that he was right; love was _weakness_. Maybe that had been the reason he'd never said he loved her. Maybe he was scared of being weak, like the coward she'd come to see him as, and because of that, left her for his power. Maybe _love_, if there was ever such a thing, wasn't nonexistent, but merely their enemy, and further, a weapon that Rumpelstiltskin refused to use on her in spite of himself. Maybe he wanted to fall in love with her, but he simply couldn't let himself be weak. Maybe it was all his fault that their story ended so abruptly and dramatically. Maybe it was never her fault at all.  
But this train of thought crashed every time, for with every _maybe_, there was _maybe not_, and more often than not, the latter was a more likely option. There was very little chance that any of it was true. There was a very _real _chance that he'd never loved her, and the romance she'd conjured up was a delusion she'd fallen under to protect herself from the fact that no one could _ever _love her.

_Now that I'm sitting here, thinking it through..._

And as she sat in that bar, staring into the fifth cup she'd half-downed and feeling the usual eyes on her, questioning what a young woman with bright blue eyes was doing drinking her head off her shoulders; as she sat there to her thoughts, she realized that it was only her fault. She'd lost her head for her _master _– she'd turned her heroic tale into a hopeless romance and herself into a heartbroken damsel-in-distress rather than an admirable figure. Of course she had; the only glimpse of love she'd caught was of _Gaston, _and that paled in comparison to the books she'd read and tales she'd been told as a child, growing up in the castle as a young, imaginative princess that she'd never grown out of. And for that, she paid dearly, to the price of her heart.

_I've never been anywhere cold as you..._

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**_So, this was something I conjured up from midnight to 5 A.M., so I hope it's enjoyable and not too illiterate. And a note for both Rumbelle and Rumplegina shippers:_ **_This story does not support a particular ship. I ship both couples, and this is a darker reflection on both of the relationships. No need to get panties in bunches._

**_If you were confused by Belle's clear memory in this story, this is set before the curse - or, Belle's story is, at least. Since Rumplegina isn't canon, it could be placed anywhere from their becoming enemies to the latest episode of OUAT. No worries :)_**

**_Make sure to leave a review and tell me what you think. I love feedback, and of course, it's Reader's Sin to read without reviewing!_**

**_* *-TheSongbird341-* *_**

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_DISCLAIMER__: I don't own Once Upon a Time or the song Cold As You; rights go to the Horowitz, Kitsis, and Taylor Swift. Peace._


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